


Finding Sammy

by MashiarasDream



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Dean POV, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mentions of Past Sex Work, Prof!Cas, established relationships - Freeform, lawyer!Sam, mechanic!Dean, therapist!Benny, yes Dean's in therapy and it's done him some good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 07:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MashiarasDream/pseuds/MashiarasDream
Summary: Dean's happy. Maybe happier than he's ever been. He and Cas are getting married and he finally feels like he's not an imposter in his own settled existence but like this is his home and his life. The only thing missing is his little brother, who ended up getting adopted when they were young. Fortunately, Charlie knows how to find people. But now Dean actually has to go and see whether his brother wants him back in his life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the wonderful HeartsAndThumbs for betaing!

“You weren’t in bed. It was all empty when I woke up!” Cas is going for an adorable pout but Dean can still see the worry behind his eyes. 

“‘M sorry, Cas,” he says and goes back to staring out into the rain. 

Cas sighs but he sits down next to Dean on their porch steps, close enough that their shoulders are brushing. He holds one naked foot out into the rain before drawing it back under the cover of the roof. “It’s not as warm as I expected.”

“It’s a subtropical summer rain, man. How can you still be freezing?” His voice is softer than the words suggest, and he bumps Cas’ shoulder. A sign that he’s, well, not  _ okay  _ necessarily, but also not in as bad a shape as Cas fears.

“I did not actually say I was freezing,” Cas huffs, his indignance well played but drawn into the adorable again by the bedhead and the cuddly plaid pyjamas that Dean would die in in weather like this. “How are you?”

The  _ fine  _ is on Dean’s tongue automatically. With anyone else he would let it roll off, too. With Cas, he swallows it back down. “Would you come with me?”

“Come with you?” Cas looks at him with genuine surprise. Bird-like head tilt and all. 

“You know what I mean,” Dean grumbles. 

“Please spell it out for me? Just so that I don’t misunderstand,” Cas requests softly. 

Dean sighs but he does as Cas asks. “Would you come down to Cali with me? See whether Charlie’s info checks out?”

“Are you sure?” 

Dean licks his lips. “About going down there or about asking you to come?”

“You could always call,” Cas points out carefully. 

“Yeah, no,” Dean shakes his head. “His voice hadn’t even broken yet. There’s no way I’d figure it out definitely from that.”

“He wasn’t that young. He’s going to remember.”

“Yeah, but what if he doesn’t  _ want _ to remember? On the phone, he can just hang up on me. Tell me that he’s not who I’m taking him for. Tell me he’s always lived in California with a family full of sunshine and smiles. And I’d have no way to know whether he lied. At least if I see him…” He breaks off.

“You’d know.”

“Yeah,” Dean nods. 

“And you’re sure you want me there?”

Dean gives Cas a pained smile that he’s sure turns out more like a grimace. “Well, let’s be real. If he’s a homophobic asshole, the meeting’s not gonna go well whether you’re there or not.”

The way Cas doesn’t answer and just looks at Dean, it’s pretty clear what Cas thinks. Dean feels his face heating up and turns back to the rain. 

“It’s been years, Cas. Since I let any of that shit get the better of me.”

“This is different, though, isn’t it? It’s your brother. I would understand if you…”

Dean interrupts him right there and then. “No! I will not do that. I won’t hide you. I won’t hide  _ us _ . If it is Sammy and he can’t deal with it, fine. I’ll know that he’s made it. That he’s all grown up and with a bit of luck even somewhat happy. That’s good enough for me. We’ll come back here and that’s that. We'll live our lives just as we would have.”

Cas searches his face for a long moment. Not necessarily suspiciously but definitely cautious. 

“I swear, Cas. No more bullshit. I know where my home is. And it’s right here.” He takes Cas’ hand and squeezes it for emphasis. Because for the very first time in his life, he knows with absolute certainty that it is true. He has a home. 

“Your feelings are not bullshit. And I’d understand if you…”

“Cas. Here.” He turns over Cas’ hand and knocks against the simple silver band there. “Engagement ring. I want to spend my entire life with you. And I’ve made it public. Cheesily.”

That makes Cas chuckle. He holds up his hands in a gesture of giving up. “Alright, I concede the point. Also, please don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“Pfff,” Dean scoffs. “The wedding will be just as sappy as the proposal. And even more public cause we’ll invite more of our friends. If you and I are not gonna do it, Charlie’s gonna make sure of both. And your siblings are absolutely going to help, buddy, so you can’t even say it’s all my fault.”

“Unfortunately,” Cas grumps though there’s a smile still lurking in the corners of his eyes. 

As much as he likes to play the grumpy old man, Dean knows how important it was to Cas to see Dean standing tall and declaring his love to the world. Or, well, their favorite pub. But in any case, to not be ashamed of them. It’s the only reason why Dean employed Jo’s help at the Roadhouse and did the proposal the way he did. Not that it turned out exactly as he’d planned it.

“Still can’t get over the fact that you had a ring for me, too.” Dean shakes his head and absentmindedly turns the ring on his own finger. It’s a little more elaborate than the one he got for Cas, bronze inlays in a vaguely Irish pattern adorning the silver. 

“Is it so surprising that I want to spend my life with you, too?” 

“No, no, it’s just - the timing was kinda - very you.” 

He remembers Charlie’s jaw dropping when Cas in his usual nonplussed way grabbed his trench coat after Dean had dropped to one knee, telling him to wait, and had then reached deep into its pocket to produce a small velvet box. Dean’s heart had stopped when Cas was grabbing the trench coat - a second of terrible doubt that he'd misread everything and Cas was going to walk out on him - before he saw the small box. Then his heart started beating that much harder when he realized what was happening. 

“I would have chosen a more private venue, had you not forced my hand,” Cas smiles and touches his ring as well. “But it would have been the same week for sure.”

"I'm sorry that I stole your thunder."

"No, you're not."

And of course, Cas would call him out even on a small white lie such as this. 

“No, I’m not,” Dean admits. “Wanted to make sure that you knew.”

“I love you just as much without any big gestures, you silly man.” 

“I know,” Dean shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I can’t want to make them.”

They smile at each other and scoot a little closer, letting their whole sides brush. For a while, they sit quiet like that, enjoying each other’s warmth. The rain is coming down steadily still, its white noise only occasionally disturbed by the noise of a passing car. 

“Charlie’s got the design almost finished. For the invitations, I mean,” Dean finally offers.

“Oh?”

“I thought I might - take one with me, if it’s already done. Down to Cali?”

“That’s - hopeful.”

“Thought you usually were the more optimistic person between us.”

“I just don’t want to see you hurt.” The  _ again _ isn’t said but it resonates in the air anyway. 

“You’ve trusted me with that for a long time now.”

“And I still do,” Cas hurries to assure. “I know that you’ve got the tools to deal with it. I just don’t like it.”

“You think it stupid that I’m doing this?”

“No. I find it very brave.”

“But you don’t understand why,” Dean implores.

“I understand that a part of you is missing and that you want to find it again.”

“‘S not a part that’s gonna change anything between us.”

“Are you sure?” Cas asks, voice uncharacteristically insecure. 

“I already told you, if he’s a homophobic bastard…”

“But what if he’s not, Dean? What if he just - dislikes me personally?”

And that - Dean hadn’t even thought about that. “Yeah, well, then he lost all his smarts. Cause that’s just stupid cause you’re awesome and everyone knows it.”

Cas makes a noise that is somewhere between a laugh and a huff and maybe a little too wet to be either, “You’re very well aware that that’s not true. People find me socially awkward and unnerving.”

“ _ Stupid _ people do that,” Dean corrects. “Who don’t know you. And if he’s, well, if he’s my brother and  _ if  _ he talks to me and  _ if  _ I give him that wedding invitation, I’m gonna damn well make sure that he gets to know you and then he’ll know that you’re awesome.” It’s really only logical.

“I’m still not sure that it’s that easy,” Cas answers but there’s something of a smile on his face again, some of Cas’ anxiety settled.

“Totally is,” Dean says, though admittedly it’s with more conviction than he feels. “I ain’t got your fancy college degree, but I do know people.”

Cas accepts that with a nod but he asks, “Can you promise me something, Dean?”

“Depends on what it is,” Dean answers, because they have principles and one of them is informed consent.

“Let me know the minute something feels off? Either with us or…” He peters off. 

“If my brain starts acting up, yeah. Got it, Cas. ‘M not gonna go tell him every deep dark secret. Though I mean, I guess he remembers some parts. But yeah, I’m kinda planning on telling him _ it’s good to see you, wanted to know you were alright, also I’m getting married so in case you wanted to show, this is the date. _ Nothing more.”

They both know that this, too, isn’t quite as simple. That there are topics that are undoubtedly going to come up with this. Topics like John Winchester and his drinking. Topics like the ways Dean had to find money to feed himself and his little brother. Topics like all the ways in which he feels like he’s failed him. Dean’s not looking forward to that part, even though he accepts it as a necessary evil in this undertaking. 

Cas can’t be looking forward to it, either, because if this leaves Dean in pieces, it’ll be Cas who has to pick up the shards. They both know that, too. 

But even with all of that, even with so much speaking against it, the thought of finding his brother hasn’t left him ever since he realized the morning after the proposal, when Cas called his sister Anna to tell her the news and ask her to be his best man, that there’s only one person in his family who is still alive. Only one person he can invite who shares a past beyond the past few years. Even if they share very little else anymore. Not even a name.

_ Samuel Wesson. _

That’s the name Charlie has found. 

Sam Wesson has studied at Stanford, is a junior associate at a law firm now, and lives in an apartment not too far from the ocean. He’s gotten a full-ride to college and according to Charlie’s research, his adoptive parents were probably happy about it. Oh, they’re better off than John Winchester. They’re a nice boring middle-class family who probably always had turkey on the table for Thanksgiving and plenty of presents under the tree at Christmas. But they’re not rich per se and Stanford costs. A lot. 

Dean forcefully stops his thought process there and brings it back to the present. “I’ll tell you,” he says. “The minute I need to get out of somewhere. Or if it feels like the depression is coming back. But you tell me, too, okay? If you feel anxious or something feels off or if I don’t notice what’s happening but you do. Wouldn’t be the first time after all.”

“Do you want to take any precautions? Alcohol?”

“You stop me after the second beer or the first shot. Unless I need my emergency meds, but I’m kinda hoping I’m sensible enough on my own not to mix and match. Besides, I haven’t had a panic attack in a while and I’m not planning to break that streak.”

“I don’t think anyone plans on that, Dean.”

But Cas’ voice is fond so all Dean does is lay his head on Cas’ shoulder. “Yeah well.” 

Instantly, Cas’ arm comes up around him. They let the silence engulf them for a little while before Cas softly says, “I’ll keep you as safe as I can. I promise.”

And Dean could tell him all kinds of things about how he can keep himself safe, but then there’s this thing where Cas’ presence alone makes him feel better. Where it makes him feel like there’s somewhere he belongs. Like there’s stability and a home. Because they have built all of that together and that’s kind of the best thing ever. 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s kind of wanted to drive to Cali, the Impala always better for his nerves than a flying tincan of death, but in the end, practicality wins out. Cas has this fancy professor gig going and his schedule doesn’t line up well with Dean’s. Dean’s got a feeling that the university only gave him the days off for this ‘family matter’ because Cas has not so subtly threatened them about how it would look like if there were stories about them discriminating against the queer coupleson their staff popping up in the news. 

Cause Cas might look like an innocent cupcake, but Dean knows better. Crossing Cas on things that are matters of principle to him is never a good idea. Dean’s pretty sure even the dean of the university has noticed that. 

“So,” Cas says when he comes out of the bathroom, toweling his hair dry. “Do we have a plan? Do you want to ‘scope out’ the place first?” The air-quotes are audible. 

“Never choose a life of crime, man, it’s not your thing,” Dean shakes his head. “And no, being the creep who is  _ scoping out _ the place is kinda not the first impression I want to make.” 

If it is a first impression. Dean doesn’t really believe in fresh starts, his life supporting a theory of second chances - Heaven knows he’s been given enough of those - but not the one where you can outrun your past and start anew. 

“Dean?” 

It’s Cas’ hand on his shoulder that makes him aware that he’s been sitting on the bed unmoving, staring off into space. Again. It’s happened more and more the closer they got to this time and place. 

“Sorry,” Dean sighs. 

“No need to apologize to me. Are you okay?”

“As okay as I can be I guess.” Dean lays his head on Cas’ stomach and closes his eyes for a moment to listen to Cas’ heartbeat. It’s strong and steady. “I keep expecting a lanky 12-year-old. And then I remember the photos Charlie found of him online and it doesn’t make sense in my head.”

“He’ll remember you as a 16-year-old.” 

Dean snorts. “Not sure whether that makes it better or worse, Cas.”

Cas chuckles and presses a kiss to the top of Dean’s head. “While I would find it interesting to have known you at 16, I think I prefer the current you.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure that if I still knew any people from back then, they’d all agree with you,” Dean answers dryly. 

“No self-deprecation, Dean,” Cas nudges him. 

“It’s not that,” Dean shakes his head. “I was messed up and pretending it wasn’t so won’t fix that. You know that better than most.”

Cause Dean had been anything but out of the woods yet when he’d met Cas. He’d been drifting, aimless, still grieving the loss of a father whose full impact on his life he’d only grasped much later. Not that he hadn’t tried to keep the worst stuff away from Cas in the beginning. But Cas is smart and Dean’s brain did not take well to his new stable life-style in the beginning. Or rather, as Cas would insist, his brain decided that the new stability was just the thing it needed to finally get all of those ugly parts of his past out in the open and work through them. 

Dean grimaces just thinking about it. 

“Hey,” Cas shakes him gently. “We got through it. No need to brood over it.” 

“Kinda still don’t understand how you didn’t just say  _ fuck this noise _ and up and left.”

“Cause I already loved you. And I very much hoped that we’d end up here.”

“Here?” Dean asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, not in this motel specifically. But at this point. Planning our wedding and making sure everyone we love gets to attend if they want to.”

That makes Dean smile, the thought of their wedding reliably bringing a burst of joy. “Yeah. That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Cas confirms and leans down to draw Dean into a soft kiss that makes him forget all of his anxiety for the moment. 

Unfortunately, the feeling of peace doesn’t stay. Cas drives their rental and Dean rides shotgun because, yeah, driving not a good idea right now. His leg keeps jiggling out of its own accord and he feels like he’s wiping his palms on his jeans every other minute, but they keep feeling clammy. He’s put on his best pair of jeans and a nice Henley over a relatively new shirt. The combination is too warm but the layers offer a sense of protection. He’s pretty sure that’s why Cas went with one of his work suits instead of something more casual, too. 

They make an odd couple, Dean thinks, their styles and personalities incongruent to anyone who isn’t friends with them. He's not sure what the Sammy he'd known would make of Cas. Sam had bitched often enough about the girls Dean hung out with. But then, he'd always either thought the girls were a bad influence on Dean or that Dean was a bad influence on them. Dean doesn't think either of those is the case with Cas. Or at least he hopes so because it's pretty clear that he'd be the bad influence here.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?” Cas looks over only for a second, his eyes back on the road after a quick glance. 

“Thank you for doing this with me. Not sure I would have gone through with it on my own.”

“You would have,” Cas says confidently. “You are a very stubborn man, Dean Winchester.”

“Not sure whether you noticed, Cas, but I kinda never even tried finding him before.” 

“They took him away from your father, not from you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean nods because he does, “I know that now.” 

Though it had taken years and quite a lot of encouragement by his therapist Benny to even acknowledge the fact that he’d been a child himself back then, and shouldn’t have been in charge of raising Sammy. Had taken even longer to manage to somehow convince himself that it hadn’t been his fault that Sammy got taken away. That even though it had been him who got caught stealing at the grocery store, which subsequently started the chain of events that got Sammy into the foster system and later adopted out. That it was his dad who should have been in charge of food procurement. 

Of course there’s a second part to it. One that Dean has had just as much trouble accepting. That the authorities didn’t leave him with his dad because he was no good anyway, while they saw potential in Sammy. In all likelihood, they had left him there because he was 16 and was gonna age out of the system in a few years anyway, while Sam still had all of highschool in front of him. No one in their right mind adopts a 16-year-old with a record. And not all foster families really try to straighten the kids out. Some use them for the government paycheck. Though of course,  _ straightening him out _ was also a thing they might have tried, if he’d ended up somewhere Christian. So yeah, options for him had been all around shitty, no matter the state’s decision.

“Wish I knew whether he ever tried finding me,” Dean says. “At least in the beginning. Or whether he was just too glad to be away to ever look back.”

“You can ask him,” Cas points out. 

“Guess I can,” Dean replies though he’s less than sure that he actually will. If the answer is that Sam did his best to forget his big brother the second he got an actual home and family, Dean’s not sure he wants to know. “I mean I know he wanted out of the life we were living. ‘S not like I can blame him for that, either. It was pretty shitty.”

It’s just that even though his little brother was annoying as fuck sometimes, he was also Dean’s only ally in the world. His reason to keep going. Losing him had been a less than stellar experience for Dean. And not only because all of his dad’s scorn was now directed his way.

“The fact that he wanted a more stable life does not mean Sam wanted to be away from you. He had as little choice in the matter as you did.”

Dean knows that. Of course he does. It’s only, “He was pissed at me  _ a lot _ . Think he was always embarrassed that he had a dumb asshole like me for a brother.”

“He was too young to understand that schooling could not be your priority while you had to keep the both of you safe and fed,” Cas explains calmly for what must be the umpteenth time since Dean has decided to do this. “He’s long since grown up. He’ll understand now what he couldn’t then.”

“How you manage to stay so patient with me when it’s always the same shitty topics that fuck me up, I’ll never understand,” Dean shakes his head. 

“Ah, the secret is twofold,” Cas answers with a smile. “One part is being aware of my own shitty topics and what helps me when they fuck me up, and the second part is that I love you. Very much.” His smile vanishes as he swerves into a free parking spot at the side of the road. “We’re here.”

It’s a nice area, a little posh even. Well, as an attorney, even if he’s a junior, Sam would make some money. A sudden rush of pride warms Dean more than even the California sun can. Sam didn’t just survive, Sam made something out of himself. 

He stops himself right there because he’s supposed to notice when his thoughts become self-defeating and that one is a close call. So he reminds himself, that yes, he actually does have a few years of college towards a technical degree now, even though his work at the garage is mostly self-taught. But even so, he’s got a job and an education and a home. It may not be as much as Sammy has reached, but it’s nothing to sneeze at, either. 

“Are you ready?” Cas asks.

“Kinda feels like that’s a trick question right there,” Dean grimaces but he unbuckles the seat belt and grabs his bag from the back seat before opening the door. “Let’s do this.”

Cas stays next to him, making sure Dean is the one to pick the speed at which they’re walking up the few steps towards the house. It’s got a ground floor level and an upper floor level that are split into two apartments, but the grounds are well cared for and from the outside it looks spacey enough that Dean is sure that it can’t come at a low price. According to Charlie, Sam is renting. Dean wants to know whether that’s a conscious choice. Whether Sam’s as uncomfortable about owning a place as Dean is. Whether he also gets the urge to flee when his roots go too deep. 

“It’s a nice place,” Cas remarks, tone casual and just enough to draw Dean back out of his head. 

Dean nods. He doesn’t particularly disagree with the statement. “So let’s see whether someone is home.”

It takes a steadying breath before he manages to ring the doorbell.

They have to wait for a long moment, but then a buzzer from upstairs lets them in. 

“I’ve just cleaned the floors! If you guys went in the water, towel Gus off!”

Cas and Dean look at each other, both of them a little perplexed. 

“Uh no, we did not go swimming,” Cas finally replies gravely.

A head shows up at the doorstep above them, followed by a large body on long legs. “Oh, I’m sorry, I was expecting my girlfriend and our dog. Can I help you?”

Dean stands frozen. Everything about him is larger than it had been. His voice is deeper. But his hair is still the same way too long mess. There is no doubt about it in his mind, this giant man is his little brother.

“Well, uhh, actually,” Cas starts and looks at Dean, who opens his mouth but doesn’t manage to make any sound come out, “yes, you can. Would you mind if we came up for a moment? We won’t keep you long if you have other plans...” He peters off, apparently not quite sure what else to say. 

Sam looks at them a little confused. “You guys some kind of missionaries or something? Because we don’t actually need to find Jesus, so it would be a bit of a waste of both our times to go through the whole spiel.”

“No, Sam,” Cas shakes his head, “we’re not here for Jesus.”

“Sam?” Sam replies, sudden suspicious frown on his face. 

“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Cas implores gently. “Samuel Wesson?”

“Winchester,” Dean croaks. “Your name was once Sam Winchester.” He turns to Cas. “It’s him, Cas. It’s him.”

Cas smiles at him, half a step forward in his direction, an aborted movement like he wanted to squeeze Dean’s hand in encouragement and then thought better of it. “I’m glad, Dean.”

“Dean?” Sam’s eyes have turned huge and round and he’s come a few steps down the stairs towards them when Dean looks back at him. 

“In the flesh.” Dean tries to give it a confident swagger but he is pretty sure that all he’s actually managing is a nervous grimace. “Heya, Sammy.”

“What on Earth are you doing here?” Sam asks flabbergasted. 

“Surprise?” Dean tries. 

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Sam still looks shell-shocked.

“May we come in?” Cas tries again. 

“Umm, yeah, I guess. The floors are still slippery, I just mopped them…” Sam’s voice sounds spooked. 

“We’ll take off our shoes. We wouldn’t want to drag in dirt,” Cas says with a polite smile. 

They do just that, Cas untying his shoes efficiently while Dean kind of alternates between staring at Sam and staring at Sam’s apartment. 

“Thank you for welcoming us inside,” Cas says with another smile, straightening up when he’s done and only looking slightly ridiculous in his suit and ‘bee happy’ socks.

“Did something happen? Are you Dean’s lawyer?” Sam asks, the shock having given way to a myriad of emotions on his face, none of which wants to stay long.

“Am I his…?” Cas coughs. “Umm, no, I’m really not. I’m - a friend.”

And that’s what finally rips Dean out of his stupor. “No, he’s not,” he interrupts vehemently. “He’s my fiancé and you better deal with that or I’m putting my shoes right back on.”

His outburst catches both of the others by surprise, Sam literally taken aback and moving back a few inches. Cas shakes his head, though his smile is fond. 

“I am,” Cas confirms, “his fiancè and thus your future brother-in-law. It’s very nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand for Sam to take.

And Sam actually takes it. He still looks completely perplexed but he mumbles a, “nice to meet you, too”, before his eyes drift back to Dean. 

“Dean?” Sam asks again like he can’t believe that it’s true.

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “It’s me, Sammy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

The answer is by rote and it makes both of them freeze. 

“I had forgotten that,” Sam says quietly. “It was like a game between us.”

“It was,” Dean nods just as quietly. “Started around middle school. You wanted to be all grown up and not be called Sammy anymore. Made me call you nothing but that, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sam echoes. Then he shakes himself like he’s shaking off memories from the past. “I’m so sorry. I’m being a terrible host. Please come through to the living room. Would you like something to drink?” 

“Water would be nice,” Cas nods. 

“Yeah, me too,” Dean seconds that. 

“Just water? You sure?” 

“We’re sure,” Dean answers before Cas can. Because Dean’s learned a thing or two about handling stressful emotions maturely and he’s not going to give Benny ammunition if he doesn’t have to. So as much as a shot or two of whiskey would dull the edges of dealing with this quite pleasantly, he’s not gonna. 

Sam looks at him like all recognition he’s had of him so far is suddenly gone. “I’m sorry, it’s just - the last time I looked for you it seemed…” He breaks off. 

“You looked for me?” Dean asks, focusing in on that bit because holy fuck, Sammy actually looked for him. He didn’t forget him immediately. 

“I did,” Sam nods. “Tried to as a kid but there wasn’t anyone to help so it didn’t amount to much. Though they had to have tracked down Da- John long enough for him to give up custody. I tried again in college when I had some more resources but...” He sends a quick look towards Cas and shrugs, face coloring.

“‘S okay,” Dean says, though his limbs suddenly feel heavy. He shouldn’t exactly be surprised that the first thing his lawyer-brother would look up is his record. “Cas knows.”

Sam sends a quick dart between Dean and Cas, “About the arrests?” He almost whispers it.

“Yeah,” Dean nods tightly. “He’s seen the paperwork, too. So no reason to be delicate about it.”

“Dean.” This time, Cas does take his hand. His grip is firm. Grounding. “Those arrests don’t mean anything to me and they never have. They have not made me love you any less for even a second.”

Even though Cas knows the charges. Even though Dean himself still has some disgust to swallow when he thinks about them. But Cas hadn’t hesitated even a minute to wrap Dean into his arms and kiss him soundly after Dean had told him about those parts of his past. In fact, nothing in his attitude towards Dean had changed at all. Dean’s not so sure that the same goes for Sam. 

“I know, Cas. And you know that beyond my love you also have my eternal gratitude for it.” He gives Cas a peck on the cheek. The kind of PSA between two guys that doesn’t get you into too much trouble even in public. Then he straightens back up. “My record isn’t me. I mean, I’ll not deny that I did all of that shit. Did a lot more that I never got arrested for, too. And if that’s all you want to see in me, well, then I’m guessing you won’t want to attend the wedding and that’s that.”

“Attend the wedding?” Sam asks, mouth open and eyes wide and shocked again.

“Oh oops,” Dean can feel his face heating. “Guess I should have led with the invitation, huh?” He rubs his neck awkwardly while Cas chuckles.

“Well, apparently one thing hasn’t changed,” Sam says dryly. “You’re such a dork, Dean.” He shakes his head. 

Dean shrugs. “You think you’re the only one telling me this? Pff, wait until you meet Charlie.” He stops when he notices what he’s said. “Well, if you want to meet Charlie, that is. She’s my best man. At the wedding, I mean.” He brings up the bag he’s brought and rummages through the files in it until he finds what he was looking for. “Here,” he holds out their invitation to Sam. It’s designed in an almost tasteful black and white design. Until you notice the Stormtroopers in the pattern anyway. “For you and - your girlfriend? The one with the dog?” He makes it a question.

“Gus. The dog, not the girlfriend,” Sam replies absentmindedly and stares at the wedding invitation like it might try to bite him. 

“Look I’m not gonna be - well, I’m gonna be a little bit upset, probably, if you don’t want to come. I mean, I came all the way here to deliver the stupid thing because I wanted… But it’s a lot. I get that. So don’t worry, man. Do what’s best for you. I’ve learned that that’s actually a pretty fucking great concept.”

That makes Cas smile. He squeezes Dean’s hand. “I’m proud of you.” It’s a stage-whisper but Dean’s pretty damn sure that Sam heard that. 

He doesn’t seem to mind, though, because for the first time in a while, he also smiles, if only a little. “You know what, the living room is to the right. I’m gonna go get that water for you now, and then we’ll start from the beginning.”


	3. Chapter 3

It’s only when he’s sitting down that Dean notices how badly his legs had been shaking. He lets out a tiny sigh of relief, heard only by Cas, who has chosen the space next to Dean on the couch. Like the ever protective boyfriend he is. 

“This is going well I think,” Cas mumbles. 

Dean nods because they’re still here so something is going right. But it’s hard to equate the man who lives in this apartment with the pouty not-quite-teenager that Dean had left behind. His brain doesn’t really want to make the connection. 

So instead, he looks around the room, tries to find something of the Sammy he remembers in the decor or in the pictures on the walls. But there’s nothing. Oh, there are smiling people next to a beaming highschool graduate who shares physical feature with his little brother, but the people are strangers and so is the honor-roll student they’re hugging. 

“Uhh, that’s - that’s Marge and Pete. My, umm, step-parents. And Emilia, my - sister.” 

Dean hadn’t even noticed Sam coming back in but obviously he has. “They look - nice.”

“They are,” Sam hurries to assure. “I mean, they don’t always get me, but they - they love me and they tried pretty hard to be good guidance figures for me.” He sounds almost apologetic about it. 

“Yeah, can’t really say the same about dad.” 

“No,” Sam turns his face away. “No, I guess you can’t.” He clears his throat and sits down in the armchair before he asks, “From what I could gather you stayed with him?”

“Sounds a little too much like I had a choice, but yeah, I stayed.”

“But not anymore?” Sam inquires with a look towards Cas.

And yeah, John would not have tolerated Cas, there’s no doubt about it. Not that Dean thinks Cas would have had any tolerance for John’s behaviour, either. 

“Dad’s been dead for the better part of a decade, Sammy,” Dean breaks the news to him. He doesn’t think he has to do it too carefully, because Sam and John definitely never got along, but still, Sam’s face falls. Like there was hope that just got squashed. 

“You didn’t actually think dad might have settled down?” Dean asks surprised.

Sam shrugs, though it’s an awkward embarrassed gesture. “Too much to hope I guess.”

“Way, way too much.” Dean takes a sip of his water when he notices how forceful that had come out. He starts anew. “Look, dad loved us in his own way. I’m pretty sure about that. But that love wasn’t gonna make him change and the fact that you got out of there and found a family that had to offer something more substantial than vague promises and drunken threats? Best thing that could ever happen to you. Even I know that.”

“But you stayed.”

“To the bitter end,” Dean nods. “And then I took the Impala and… well, you read my files. Probably gives a pretty accurate picture.”

“What changed?”

Dean shrugs, though he side-eyes Cas for a moment. “Found something that made it worth my while trying to change my habits and find a way to settle down. Wasn’t exactly easy but, well, I’ve got a job and a house and I’m getting married and everything. No recent arrests, either. Guess that counts for something.” This time, it’s Dean who puts his hand on Cas’, lightly circling his fingers when Cas lays his hand palm up. 

It’s not that Cas rescued him. Dean knows well enough from his dad that you can’t rescue someone else. People have gotta want to rescue themselves first. But Cas had undoubtedly been the stable rock in the storm that ensued when Dean decided to change course and find a home port. 

He becomes aware of Sam watching them when the silence drags on too long. 

“You gotta say if it bugs you. Helps me, sometimes, being able to hold on to him to ground myself. But we don’t have to touch if it bothers you. I can manage.” The last part is said more to Cas than to Sam. 

Sam shakes his head. “It’s not that. It’s like - my brain is trying to recreate the picture of my brother Dean. But that was a kid who was 16. And that’s not you.”

“Thank goodness. Never wanna be 16 again,” Dean answers with a shudder. “Also yeah, same. I kinda remember you being a whiny 12-year-old who liked to pretend he couldn’t hear me whenever he had his nose in a book. So, like, always.”

Sam huffs a short burst of laughter. “Fair enough, I guess.” His phone gives a short beep. He checks what’s obviously a message. “Umm, that’s from Jess. They are downstairs. Are you two okay with dogs? You’re only allergic to cats, right?”

“Right,” Dean nods, baffled because he didn’t actually think Sam would remember that. But then, Sam’s always been a big fan of dogs and he’s never understood why Dean didn’t love them the same way he did. 

“Okay. I’ll bring them a towel real quick. Gus has a lot of wet fur when he was playing in the ocean.”

It takes only a few minutes before there’s a noise and a “Gus, no! Stay!” and then a big wet Golden Retriever bounces into the room and runs right up to them. 

“Eww, you’re icky.” Dean wrinkles his nose but still scratches the dog’s ears while Cas tries to save his suit pants from being slathered in ocean-damp dog hair. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” A harried voice follows Gus and then a tall woman follows that. “I swear he went to puppy school and everything. He’s just so excited about basically everything, it’s hard to get him to slow down.” She holds out a hand to Dean. “I’m Jess.”

“Dean,” Dean says and wipes the dog slobber off his hand before taking hers. “And that’s my fiancé Cas.” He smiles when he notices how proud it makes him to say it.

“Ah, I’ve heard about you already, Dean. Not so much about you, sorry to say.” She shakes Cas’ hand.

“Well, seeing how Sam didn’t know about my existence before today, it would have been hard for him to tell you about me,” Cas says matter-of-factly. 

Jess’ answer is to laugh, which Dean appreciates. Too many people mistake Cas’ dryness as a lack of humor instead of his way of expressing it. 

“So, you’re the fabled brother,” Jess turns back to Dean. “Gotta say, I imagined something else.”

“He told you about me?” Dean frowns. 

“Yup,” Jess nods. “I would say he told me only the best, but I’m thinking he went more for  _ accurate picture _ . He’s lawfully good like that.”

“Huh. So what did he say?”

“Uh-huh,” Jess shakes her head. “Things said in confidence and stuff.”

“Well, what did you expect then?” Dean prods.

“Hmm.” She thinks about it for a moment. “More hyper-masculine posing, less gay,” she finally summarizes. 

Which, “fair,” Dean admits. “Guess that describes me pretty well at 16. Though it’s bi, by the way.”

“Huh?”

“I’m bisexual. Not gay.” When Cas looks at him with a slightly exasperated headshake, Dean shrugs. “Like Charlie’s not gonna make at least five bi-jokes in her speech. So we better get this over with before then. Because yes, bisexuality exists and it doesn’t just change when you have found a partner you want to spend your life with and yada yada.”

Jess looks at him amused. “I was aware of that, actually.”

“So was I,” Sam agrees. "So who is this best man Charlie person?”

“Our dungeon master,” Cas answers, prompting Jess to spit out the water she was just drinking, which in turn prompts Gus to jump up from where he was panting on the floor. 

“It’s okay, I’m not dying,” Jess manages between coughing fits, her erratic petting of the dog only semi-reassuring. 

Dean hides his face behind his hands. 

“Oh. I should have made clear that this was about pen & paper roleplay. Not that Charlie doesn’t indulged in other kinds of roleplay as well or that the kink scene isn’t a perfectly…”

“ _ Shut up _ , Cas!” Dean stops him right there and then. “My little brother does not want to know whether you and I ever dabble in - dungeon-related activities.”

“Well, if he was  _ my  _ brother, he would already be lecturing us about whatever new kink he recently discovered, so I think this is only fair,” Cas grins, completely unapologetic.

It makes Jess laugh again even though she’s just through with coughing. “Well, if it helps any, Sam and I indulge in the Klingon Cuddle Dungeon, if you get what I mean.” She wiggles her eyebrows.

Dean can virtually see the question mark over Cas’ head, while it’s now Sam’s turn to groan. Dean thinks back to his late night Star Trek marathons with Charlie. “Klingons like sex to be aggressive, so if it’s a kinky dungeon for them, it’s - completely vanilla for us?” he guesses. 

“Ha! Your brother is smart! I like him!” Jess exclaims and holds a hand out for a high five that Dean gives her without hesitation. 

“Nerds,” Sam grumbles, even though Dean’s pretty sure Sam’s not turned any less of a nerd himself in the years that have gone by. Gus apparently takes Sam’s grumbling seriously, though, because he trots over to him and lays his head in Sam’s lap. “Yeah, you pretend you want to comfort me, but really all you want is nose scratches,” Sam coos and of course immediately gives the dog scratches. 

“Well, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed,” Dean remarks. 

“Many people like dogs, Dean.” And that sounds much like his petulant little brother. 

“Didn’t say it was a crime,” Dean answers before deciding that the little banter has given him the energy to go back into the thick of it. “So, umm, foster care? And then adoption?”

Sam keeps his eyes on the dog but Dean can see the flinch. “What do you want to know?”

“Were they good to you?” Because really that’s the only thing that matters. 

Sam swallows but he nods. “Yeah, they were good to me. I mean it was - it was difficult in the beginning. But I came to Marge and Pete pretty fast. And they were - are good people.”

“Didn’t drink, didn’t hit you, didn’t make you do shit that you didn’t want to do?” Dean asks because he has to. 

“No,” Sam shakes his head. “None of that stuff. They weren’t dad.” For a moment, they are all silent. Then Sam says quietly, “It was the other stuff that was weird. Same school for the whole year. Inviting friends over to study or play. Getting to do piano lessons. And,” he looks up at Dean, “having an actual parent go to parent-teacher-night, not your brother. Having presents under the Christmas tree that a parent bought. In an actual store with actual money. Not getting a surprise Barbie cause that was the bag that was left unattended for a moment. Having a festive dinner that’s not a sandwich with a few turkey slices but an actual turkey, and everyone’s sitting around the table, talking and laughing and no one gets hurt.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you that,” Dean answers just as quietly.

Immediately, Cas’ hand is on his knee. “That was never your job. Or it shouldn’t have been at least.”

“I know,” Dean says but he puts his own hand on top of Cas’. He’s always been a tactile person but he’s never had anyone who he trusts quite as implicitly as Cas. Who he almost never flinches away from. Well, apart from Sam. Sam had also been such a person once upon a time. 

“I still missed you, Dean. I mean, I’m not going to lie, I liked having enough food and my own bed. But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t miss you.”

“‘S okay, Sammy. I know you thought I was obnoxious. Kinda had to be. Dad wasn’t around to do his part, y’know? I filled in best as I could, but I know I wasn’t enough. So yeah, I get it that you didn’t miss my crappy presents or sorry attempts at a festive meal.”

“But that’s what I wanted to say! I didn’t miss the crappy presents, no. I missed you! At night, when I had a bad dream? I didn’t want to wake up Marge or Pete with stuff like that. I wanted to crawl into bed with you and know you’d keep me safe until the morning. And when there was this shitty guy in school trying to touch Emilia? I knew you would have kicked that guy into next Wednesday. I was just the book club nerd. I never could.”

Dean laughs, though it sounds a little wet even in his own ears. “Dude, don’t know whether you noticed but you grew into a giant. Pretty sure you could beat up whoever the fuck you want.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Not the point, Dean.”

And maybe it isn’t. "You really missed me?" Dean asks because even if Sam spelled it out, there were so many horror scenarios about his brother throwing him out on his mind before they got here that it doesn’t really compute.

"Of course I did," Sam confirms. "I tried to ask them to get you out of there, too, but…"

"I had a record even back then." It's not hard to see why a lovely middle-class couple wouldn't see Dean as the right kind of influence on Sam. 

"And it was hard to ascertain where you and dad were at any point in time."

"Yeah, social services gave up on it, too." He can’t help that it still sounds bitter, even after all these years. He may have insisted for the longest time that his dad was a hero but the few times he'd actually gotten away from his clutches? He remembers them like a breath of fresh air while drowning. 

"I'm sorry," Sam apologizes and digs his hands into Gus’ fur, who promptly puts his head back on Sam’s knee, nosing at him comfortingly. "I should have tried harder."

Dean shrugs because bygones are bygones, there’s nothing to change. And he’ll take the fact that Sam was thinking about him as a win. "Not your fault, Sammy. And it was only a few years." 

Though Cas had once done a tally of Dean's scars - the physical ones, Dean isn't quite sure how to tally up the others - and those few years account for the majority of them. 

"Things didn't get better after I was gone?" Sam asks. 

"Not really, no." 

"But it was so often about me when he yelled at you and when he, you know…"

Dean shrugs, uncomfortable with this turn of topic. "He found other reasons."

“I’m sorry.”

Dean shrugs again because there’s nothing much to be done about it now.

“I really thought -,” Sam clears his throat. “Or I hoped anyway. That it was just because of me that he got so angry.”

“Sammy.” For a moment, Dean lacks the words. Because ten years ago, he’d have said the same thing about himself. That it was his fault why his dad got angry. That he could be better, less clumsy, quieter when needed, more assertive when needed, working harder - something or anything to satisfy his dad. Only, now, that he’s talked all of this through both with Benny and Cas, he thinks that that wasn’t it at all. “Dad was an angry alcoholic who’d never gotten over the death of our mom. We could have been the best children on the planet, it wouldn’t have changed a thing.” 

Cas nods next to him, both pride and understanding in his eyes. And yeah, Cas’ family is fucked up differently than Dean’s, but in so many ways, he’s had to cope on his own from early just the same. His understanding goes deeper than mere empathy. 

“It was never your fault, either, Cas. ‘S not our job to be who our parents want us to be.” Dean takes Cas’ hand in both of his and holds it tight. 

“It’s our job to be who we are. I know, Dean,” Cas smiles at him, though there is sadness around his eyes. He doesn’t object to Dean’s close hold, though. 

Which is a thing Dean feels pride about. Because in the beginning, that had been different. As much as Dean hadn’t wanted to scare Cas off with his sad life story, Cas had been almost worse. Steady by Dean’s side when Dean needed him, but retreating into his shell whenever he was upset. 

They’ve both learned. Dean, that he has to use his words and that touch, especially meaningless one with strangers, is not a replacement for communication or therapy. Cas, that physical comfort is in fact a thing, and cerebral power and logic do not at all times outweigh creature comforts. 

“Anna and Gabe will both be there. We’ll just do siblings instead of parents. It’ll be good, Cas, you’ll see.”

It doesn’t make the sadness disappear, but Cas shakes his head fondly. “Of course it’ll be good. I’m marrying you, doofus.”

“Awww, Sam, they’re cute.” Jess has her hands touched to her heart. “You never told me your brother was this cute.”

“Oh no, you don’t,” Sam shakes his head. “Don’t fall for it! He’s the cool one, maybe, but I’m the cute one. His charms are all for show!”

Dean chuckles along with everyone else, but there’s a nagging feeling in his stomach, like the joke still hits too close to the truth even now. It’s an icky feeling like cold wet slime.

“Hey,” Cas tugs at his hand. “Earth to Dean?”

It’s only then that Dean notices that everyone is staring at him. “Did I space?”

Cas nods. “Are you okay?”

And that’s a thing that doesn’t happen to Dean all that often anymore in company. “Umm, I know y’all were just out with the dog, but - fresh air?” 

“Just walking or walking and food?” Cas asks, used to Dean’s need to flee closed spaces when he feels overwhelmed. 

“Just walking,” Dean decides. “Not really hungry.” In fact, he’s pretty sure he couldn’t eat if he tried. This whole thing is much too much. “Do you mind?” he asks Sam and Jess. 

“We can go on our own, if it’s inconvenient,” Cas adds. “Maybe you could exchange phone numbers so you can stay in contact?” 

There is a moment of silent conversation between Sam and Jess, then Sam nods. “That’s a good idea. Let’s do that now. And then we can go down to the ocean. Gus’ll be happy about getting a second walk and we had no plans.”


	4. Chapter 4

So it comes that half an hour later, all four of them are down at the beach. Jess is throwing sticks for Gus, who runs into the water with excitement to retrieve the dripping pieces of wood. He doesn’t seem discouraged when one of them disappears in the waves, either. He just trots back to them, shakes himself off and waits for the next stick to be thrown. Dean’s kind of envious, he doesn’t think he’s ever gonna be quite so zen about things disappearing out of his life.

He shakes his head and chuckles at himself. 

“What’s so funny?” Sam is standing next to him, hands in the pockets of his jeans, still watching him with insecurity in his eyes. 

“Just watching your dog,” Dean answers, not really ready to explain. “He’s very - in the moment.”

“Yeah,” Sam agrees. “It’s something I always liked about them. That they’re just happy in the present. They don’t worry about the future.”

“Doesn’t seem to me that you have much to worry about there,” Dean replies, though he raises an eyebrow in question. First impressions can be deceiving, he knows that better than most. 

Sam looks out over the water, letting his eyes roam the wideness of the ocean, before turning back to Dean. “We’re doing okay. But old habits die hard.”

“Though you would have had a little less to worry about with the new fam.”

Sam smiles, though there’s no mirth in it. “It was an old habit even then. Also...”

“Also?” Dean prompts him when he doesn’t continue.

“Also, I had been in foster care before. It never stuck. Was a while before they convinced me that dad wasn’t gonna drag me out of there.”

Dean wants to say he would have stopped his dad, should he have tried, but truth is, he doesn’t think he would have. He’d lost his only friend and ally when Sam was gone and he’d have given about anything to have him back, even though it makes his stomach burn with guilt. He had never not known that there was basically no way for Sam to go but up the moment he got away from John. 

“Dean? Can I ask you something?”

Sam’s hesitant tone makes Dean want to tell him no. This is not gonna be pleasant, whatever it is. He nods anyway. “Sure.”

“About those arrests…?”

And yeah, he probably should have expected this question. Not that it makes it any better. “‘S a long time ago, Sammy.”

“I know and you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I just - how did that happen, Dean? Was there - coercion?”

Dean chuckles a self-deprecating laugh. It would be so much easier now if there had been. “Nah. Nothing like that. Was my own choice.”

“But why?”

Dean shrugs. “Was the only way I could abide human touch anyway. Something quick and without strings attached. No reason not to make a buck from it.”

“But Dean! It’s dangerous!”

Dean shrugs. “And I got hurt plenty. But it’s not like I wasn’t used to hurting. And this way, I sometimes got some warmth with it, too.” Which is more than he can say of his dad. John Winchester was never great at providing warmth to anyone. 

For a while, Sam is quiet. The hesitance has not disappeared from his voice when he says, “This is gonna sound like a stupid question but, umm, were you - gay before?”

“Bi,” Dean corrects automatically before raising his eyebrows at his little brother. “Did you honestly just ask whether turning tricks turned me queer?”

Sam has the decency to blush. “It’s just that you always brought home girls. You never…”

“What do you think would have happened if dad had caught me with a guy?” Dean tries to keeps it quiet but his voice is harsh when he interrupts Sam. “I was an asshole at 16 but I wasn’t gonna risk putting myself and whoever I crushed on in a wheelchair.” He shakes his head. “Dude, seriously.”

"So you were always…"

Dean groans. "Yes, Sam. I was always. No john turned me. This is not a stupid vampire novel." Though Dean's gotta admit that he'd not have complained too much if one or the other client had looked a little more like Spike from Buffy. 

"And Cas?" Sam asks. 

"Well, he was my customer when I met him." Dean lets Sam's eyes widen in shock before he starts laughing. "He brought his car in to the garage I'm working at. It's not  _ Pretty Woman _ , either, man."

"Asshole," Sam grumbles. 

"Well, serves you right for assuming bullshit."

“Dean, I haven’t seen you since I was 12 and judging from your arrest record, you haven’t always exactly kept the best company. How am I supposed to know what is bullshit?”

“Well, for one you could trust me enough to know that I did my research on you, too. I wouldn’t bring a life of crime into your perfect little lawyer world. And for two -,” but he stops himself when he sees Sam’s expression. “Seriously, Sammy? That’s what you were thinking? That I came here because I was in more trouble than I could handle and needed a  _ lawyer _ ?”

“Not thinking, necessarily,” Sam defends. “Just wondering.”

“Jesus Christ.” Dean runs a hand through his hair to give himself a moment to try to figure out how to react to this. “Sam, I… I wanted to invite you to my wedding. See whether maybe we have something in common despite everything. Whether we could be part of each other’s lives again.” He breaks off a little helplessly. He had kind of believed it when Cas had said that it seemed like things were going well. He’s not so sure anymore. “Look, man, I meant it when I said you don’t have to. It’s a lot, I know. You weren’t asking for me to show up at your doorstep. So, like, take your time, man. Think about it. You have my contact info now. I promise not to bother you, no matter what you decide.”

“It’s so weird. I keep expecting you to - I dunno. Get angry. Get defensive. Instead you’re saying all of this wise shit and I have no idea how to react.”

Dean snorts. “I’m not sure there’s any particular wisdom I’ve got to impart.” He turns serious again. “But I thought this through a lot before coming here. And talked it through. With Cas and with my shrink. I wanted to make sure I can handle anything that could happen today. I owe that much to myself and to Cas. So yeah, there’s no pressure on you from my side.”

“And the, uhh, shrink is helping?”

“Yup,” Dean nods. “Sure is.” 

“What made you go?” Sam asks before backtracking. “Not that you have to tell me.”

“‘S okay,” Dean shrugs. He’s had a while to get used to the idea that he’s a person who needs therapy. “Basically went because of Cas. Not cause he made me or anything. But because I knew I wanted this to work. There’s, like, not that much good shit that happened to me in my life. I knew I was gonna have to try hard if I wanted to hold on to this one. 'Cause Cas deserves that, you know? He deserves my best effort.” After a heartbeat, he adds. “And I deserve it, too.” It’s quieter, the concept still one that he grapples with every so often. That he’s allowed to do stuff to get better not because he’s doing it to be better for someone else, but just because of himself. Because he wants to be happy. 

“You love him a lot.”

It’s not a question but Dean answers anyway. “Yeah, Sammy, I do.”

“And he loves you just as much?”

“Kinda feel like he wouldn’t have made it through all of my bullshit if he didn’t.”

Sam raises a questioning eyebrow at him. 

Dean grimaces. Not his favorite topic. “Took me a while before I got to a point where I was - out and proud, y’know? Kinda didn't equate 'two guys' with 'healthy relationship' in my head. Two guys was connected to the other thing for me. Which, y’know, I had done my best to keep hidden from anyone who didn’t know me from there. Took some adjusting.” Understatement.

But luckily for Dean, Cas isn't the type to pressure. Even though he had had his own coming out battles already and had no intention whatsoever to go back in the closet. But where other people might have called Dean a coward and moved on, Cas asked. And where Dean expected him to judge, Cas accepted. And then tried to figure out how to best support Dean on his own terms. Really, Dean has no fucking clue how he got this lucky but he's absolutely determined to do everything in his power to keep that from changing. 

"So now it is? A healthy relationship?" Sam asks. 

Dean looks over to where Cas is standing next to Jess, by all appearances concentrating on her story. He still finds Dean's eyes immediately when Dean looks over. Dean shakes his head with a small smile. He's good. Cas nods and turns back to Jess, trusting Dean to tell the truth, though Dean has no doubts that should he need him, Cas would be at his side at once. 

"He knows me better than anyone. And I him. But none of us uses that knowledge to hurt. Not even when we're fighting." 

It’s not the only definition of a healthy relationship of course. There are plenty of other parameters. But this one has always stuck with Dean, because he’s never before had that. Someone who when he is hurt and angry doesn’t lash out. The first few times they fought, it had confused Dean so much that he had not had any idea how to react. What even was a fight if there wasn’t any name-calling, if there was no violence, no threats about this being the end? Dean hadn’t had a frame of reference for fights where the other person assured you in the middle of them that yes, they were upset but they’d all get out the other end of those feelings unharmed. 

“He’s older than you, isn’t he?” 

Dean shrugs. “Don’t let the suit deceive you, the age difference is not actually that big.”

“No, I’m not judging,” Sam quickly shakes his head. “You’re both consenting adults, so you can do whatever the fuck you want. It’s just that - he seems very centered in himself. Calm. Like he knows himself well.”

That’s undoubtedly true, so Dean cracks a smile. “He’s found himself, alright. You should ask him about it, you’d probably have lots to talk about.” When Sam looks at him questioningly, Dean shrugs. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the yoga mats. And there were two of them, so don’t even try to pretend it’s just your girlfriend who’s into the new-agey shit.”

“Cas does yoga?” 

“Nah, mostly he goes running. Says it’s good for his peace of mind. And we have some meditation cushions lying around. Yes,” he talks over Sam when Sam immediately opens his mouth, “plural. I tried it out. Couldn’t sit still long enough for it. Makes me itchy, not calm.”

He shudders. Cas says meditating helps him to calm down the flow of his thoughts and be in the moment. All it did for Dean was to provide a quiet space to think about everything terrible that had ever happened, every thing he'd done wrong in his life and every possible future catastrophe. 

Sam chuckles. "Believe it or not, I'm not much one for sitting still either. I'd much rather go on a run with Gus to clear my head."

"But your work makes you sit in an office," Dean points out. Cas always says Dean is too tactile for office work, he himself calls it fidgety. 

"But I get to talk to people and do research and stuff. It's not just sitting still for the sake of it. It's actually quite involved." 

Sam's face lights up when he talks about his work and for the next few minutes Dean listens to the daily routine of an attorney at law. He really doesn't care about the mundane details but he watches with wonder how expressive Sam's face gets, the guarded neutrality from before falling away to the passion he has for his work. 

Finally, when Sam notices that Dean’s been quiet for a long time, his face crunches up in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Never apologize for being passionate about something, Sammy.” 

Sam freezes before letting out a deep breath. “You’ve said that to me before.”

Dean smiles a little half-smile. “You were a nerdy theater kid. You needed to hear it.” Then he huffs. “I shoulda have brought my bag. I had so much stuff packed for you. Pretty sure there’s a fourth grade essay somewhere in there detailing why you want to be a lawyer. Glad that the actual thing doesn’t disappoint.”

“You kept my stuff?” Sam asks surprised.

Dean scratches his neck, his turn to be a bit embarrassed. “Yeah? It’s really not that much. Dad threw out all of your clothes and shit. But he never cared about the papers.”

“So you, like, saved my kindergarten drawings?”

“Yeah?” Dean answers insecurely. 

“Could I - could I see them?” Sam asks, eyes wide. 

Dean frowns. “Course. That’s why I brought them.”

“Are there photos, too?” 

Sam’s excited voice brings back Cas and Jess to their sides. 

“Yeah,” Dean nods. “I mean, Dad kept those until he died, especially anything that survived the fire. He guarded those, no matter what else.”

“You mean you have pictures of mom?” Suddenly, Sam’s voice sounds wetter than it had been.

“Sam.” Dean wants to put a helpless hand on Sam’s arm but lets it sink again. 

Jess picks up his slack and puts an arm around Sam instead, squeezing him tight. 

“It’s just -,” but Sam’s voice doesn’t cooperate, the sentence ending in a hiccup. He hides his face in Jessica’s hair.

“He has nothing,” Jess answers for him. “From before. He’s got like one tiny picture of the two of you that was in his wallet. But it’s so wrinkled and faded that you can barely see anything. Everything else is from after. It’s like his childhood never existed. Like all there is is a big hole.”

Dean knows how that feels like, at least a little, because his life has had a Sammy-shaped hole in it for way too many years now.

“I remember them. All those stories from your childhood. I remember them and I can tell them to you. There doesn’t need to be a hole there.”

Cas slings his arm around Dean’s waist, too, then, a wordless acknowledgement of everything this means.

“Yeah,” Sam answers, voice still heavy with unshed tears. “Yeah, I would like that.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Epilogue**

Dean is nervous. In fact, he’s probably never been this nervous in his life. 

“Chill out, Dean. Cas won’t leave you in front of the altar.” 

“Yeah, how do you know?”

Charlie rolls her eyes at him. “Because he isn’t the type. If he had second thoughts, he’d sit you down at your kitchen table and talk it out. In detail.”

“Bit late for that now, though, isn’t it?” 

“Alright, he’d sneak in here if he had second thoughts. Though in all actuality, I believe he’d sneak in here for a quick smooch. Never got that whole thing about spending the last night apart. Just makes everyone nervous and leads to pent up - things.”

It’s Dean’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yeah, well, we texted. And we both had siblings to keep us entertained.”

“Which helped a great deal with your anxiety, as I can see,” Charlie teases. 

Dean chuckles with her even though in all honesty, it had helped. Just the fact that Sam had cared enough to actually show up for him had helped. The fact that Sam got along splendidly with Charlie and Kev, and had even agreed to meet Benny for no other reason than that Dean wanted the two of them to meet, helped even more. “‘S kinda still pretty cool to me, Red,” Dean admits to what he was thinking. “Kinda unused to having actual family around.”

“What? Like we don’t count or something?”

“Nah,” Dean shakes his head, “found family counts just as much.” He squeezes her into a quick hug to drive the point home as well. 

"Careful! No wrinkles!" Charlie pushes away from him and immediately starts straightening out his cuffs again. 

"Dude, if he didn't run from the rest of me, a few crinkles will not scare him off."

"But it's my job as your best man to deliver you wrinkle-free," Charlie insists. “That and sober, but I think you’re gonna make my job easy on that front.”

Dean huffs. Of course he’s sober. Cas and him had their bachelor’s parties well in advance. And because their friends are their friends, and having Charlie meet Gabriel was a bad idea, both parties had ended up at the same strip joint at the stroke of midnight.  _ ‘Cause I know Cassie won’t even look if you aren’t here to allow it.’ _ Which, Gabe hadn’t been wrong, Cas probably wouldn’t have had relaxed at all at the strip club, had Dean not been there. But it’s got more to do with social anxiety and less with permission. As it was, Dean had goodnaturedly flirted with the waiter until he agreed to switch every other of Cas’ and his drinks to something virgin, and then he and Cas had proceeded pushing bills into the underwear of various dancers as long as their friends kept the money coming. 

Dean smiles. Good times. For their party as well as for the dancers, he thinks. Enough money for the night to be a win, and a party that’s well-behaved enough not to touch were they shouldn’t. 

They had carried the energy home from the club, a low buzz of music and naked skin and just enough alcohol to still be stimulating not deadening. So Dean had put his ipad on its station to connect to their speakers, had shuffled through his playlist for a good song, and had given Cas his own show. Which fortunately had zero rules about the other party having to stay dressed. The fact that Dean kept up the  _ no touching _ rule all the way through a very private lap dance just made things more interesting. 

“Deaaaaaan! Put on cufflinks and your tie, we’ve only got 20 minutes!”

And oops, he had been spacing a little, reminiscing about that all around epic night. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m working on it,” he deflects and starts doing up his cufflinks. 

“He’s got powers, your man,” Charlie grins and takes the cufflink out of Dean’s hand to do it up for him. 

“Well, he’s getting me in a penguin suit for example,” Dean grumbles, because the tie and suit jacket aren’t even on yet and he already feels stiff, even though the suit has his exact measurements. Cas moves in these things like they’re ordinary clothes and not restricting at all. Dean will never understand. 

“Aw, but you look good!” Charlie gives him a once over and then hands him the tie. 

It’s got a different pattern than Cas’ but they’ve chosen the same colors for both their ties and handkerchiefs. The latter apparently have to be and stay neatly folded in their breast pockets because otherwise the outfit isn’t complete. It doesn’t make any sense to Dean but the guy in the store was adamant, so Dean goes along with the flow. 

“Any last words?”

Dean snorts. “It’s not an execution, Red.” 

She grins at him unapologetically. “Still. Any last words?”

He’s gotta give it to her, she has successfully managed to banter him out of his nerves. Yeah, he’s gonna crinkle up his fancy suit in no time, but he knows that when he leaves this room he’s gonna meet the man he loves with all of his heart and wants to spend the rest of his life with at the beginning of the aisle that they’ll walk down together. 

They’ll walk by all of their friends who are here to support them and up to the front row, where Dean’s brother found a place next to Charlie’s seat and fills a hole that had gaped in Dean’s life for way too long.

They’ll listen to their non-denominational rainbow priest and exchange vows the words to both of which they both know by heart anyway, because neither of them wanted to do this without practising first. Dean isn’t a great public speaker in general but weirdly enough, Cas was the one who was more anxious about this.  _ ‘But what if it sounds like a lecture? What if my feelings don’t come across?’ _ Judging by the amount of making out that had happened after each practice session, Dean doesn’t think Cas needs to worry. 

After the vows, they’re gonna exchange rings and they’ll kiss, and by that time they’re probably both gonna be sniffling, but Dean packed some paper tissues so that the precious breast pocket handkerchief can stay untouched. 

And then they’re gonna cut the cake, and dance their first dance, and do all of that sappy shit that Dean’s never thought was anywhere in the cards for him. And he’s gonna enjoy every single moment of it. 

Consequently, he shakes his head when he looks back at Charlie. “Nah,” he says, “I’m good.”

Because he is. He really really is. 


End file.
